


The Hunter, Not the Hunted

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By Secular AtrophyXena does a little off season hunting.





	The Hunter, Not the Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).
> 
> Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, they all belong to Renaissance and StudiosUSA. All of them... NOOO!!! 
> 
> Rated- NC 17 
> 
> Violence- Ahem. The name Xena ring any bells? 
> 
> Sex- Not too graphic, but yeah, a bit. (Jeez, why do you insist on calling it porn??) 
> 
> Language- Meh, as much as my usual stories. Pretty clean. 
> 
> Subtext- "Do not make me zap you." Not that I find a girl/girl relationship wrong. Hell, I'm considering it myself.(1/jk) I just find a Xena/Gabrielle relationship rather disgusting. If you find that Gabrielle has some rather lame lines, remember that I must conform to her character. 
> 
> Summary: Xena does a little off season hunting.

She glared at the damn flowers. By all rights they were good flowers, beautiful even, but they were red, and they were roses. He just had to do something annoying like that, particularly during a rather satisfying argument.

 

Gabrielle returned with the waterskins at this point. "Oh! Xena, what beautiful roses. Where did you get them?"

"Don't ask."

The bard grinned. There was only one person other than herself who could cause such grumpiness in the Warrior Princess. "I see. Ares getting moony again?"

"Don't even mention the bastard's name."

Gabrielle knew that sometimes even she should let the sleeping lion lie, "Alright then. You ready to leave?"

"All packed."

The blond tossed the waterskins into Argo's saddlebag. Didn't Xena know how awkward it was when she got all broody?

Xena stood, still stewing, "Let's go."

 

* * *

They stopped that midday at a secluded pond Xena had used as her hideaway from chores nearly sixteen years ago. As she settled down to the cooking, Gabrielle suggested that a swim might be in order. The warrior had reluctantly agreed, to the bard's relief. Maybe a swim would cure Xena's irritability.

 

Xena let herself just drift in the calm waters as she stared upwards into the azure dome of the sky. The celestial sphere curved overhead, shaded in bands of deeper and lighter blues. The edges of the sky were such a pale colour they could have been taken as white. Puffy clouds scuttled across the cerulean band directly above, merging and dividing in a strange type of mitosis, and leaving ragged wisps of cloudstuff behind which quickly built up into new masses. She could almost see patterns in the random patches of darker gray and silvery pale. That particular conglomeration to the left seemed to form a delicate chrysanthemum, its colour not the dead white of bone, but the living white of sea foam. And that one following Helios' chariot--

Startled, Xena tried to sit up, completely forgetting that she was half submerged in the warm water. Unsurprisingly, she sank very quickly. Spluttering, the Warrior Princess broke the surface, clear liquid and the occasional tadpole streaming from her ropelike tangle of black hair. Levelling an irritated glare at the intruder, she trod water.

"I swear, if you laugh..."

Ares carefully kept his face blank. Being a god did not mean that he didn't have some instinct for self-preservation. "Not at all."

Xena spat out a clinging piece of weed.

The god couldn't help it; he laughed.

She gave him a glimpse of her 'I'm gonna kill you so dead you won't know what hit you' look before she relented. "Alright. Laugh all you want. It was my fault for not being on guard."

"I'm sorry, but that was priceless. Wait 'til I tell the guys you were so excited to see me you almost drowned. You realize there's a tadpo... gah..."

Xena pulled herself onto the grassy bank, flicking the said tadpole back into the water. She wrung out her hair, giving the wargod a puzzled frown. "What?"

"No, uh, I... I didn't realize that you were naked."

"Oh. So? It's not like you haven't seen me naked before." She turned to face him. She could almost hear the click as his aroused gaze latched onto her jutting breasts. Hiding a grin, she picked up her linen shift and slipped it over her head, tugging it down to cover her still damp form. _Gods, they're so predictable._

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit._ Ares stared at the brief shift she wore. It clung to her skin, slightly translucent due to the excess moisture. The dark round disks of her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. _Oh shit._ Ares could feel himself getting hard. How could this godsdamned woman be more erotic clothed than when nude? _Shit shit shit._ This was not a good reaction for a god. He was supposed to keep his cool even during extreme duress, or in this case, arousal.

His voice was a hungry growl when it forced past his constricted throat, "So help me if you don't hit me right now I'm going to throw you down right here and fuck you whether you're willing or not."

"You'll do no such thing," Xena replied primly, amused.

"You don't tell me what I'll do, woman." Ares took a threatening step forward.

The Warrior Princess stepped backwards, deciding to play along. Even ten years ago, he could always relieve her worst moods by doing something silly like this. "Is that any way to address a lady?"

Xena seemed to be misinterpreting his body language, but Ares knew better. Even in her relative innocence, his Princess had always known that there was a sexual, primal undertone to their old game. Hope flared. They hadn't played in so long, but these games usually ended with a prize if he caught her. "You're no lady," he grinned, "You're a savage, just like me."

"I beg your pardon?" She was definitely backing away now, her affronted tone masking the humming tension between the two. "A savage? Do I look like a savage?"

"You're playing tag with me--" he lunged, and missed her lithe form by mere inches as she bolted to the side. "What lady would do that?"

"You're not giving me much of a choice by chasing me like that."

"Chasing you? I just want to help you out of that dirty, cold, wet shift."

She dropped and rolled under his arms, "It's not dirty."

"But it's cold?"

"Nope." Xena dodged around a tree.

"Have you always been this fast?"

"I have, actually. You should remember."

His fingers almost closed over her slim waist, but there was a blur, and his hands grasped air. Ares spun around, a petulant pout fixed on his face. "Not fair! I had you!"

"No you didn't," Xena drawled, "And besides, you're the one who usually cheats."

"Hmph. Maybe I'll have better luck playing with Gabrielle."

The Warrior Princess stopped in her tracks, "Don't you dare-- argh!" She toppled over, having been tackled by the god. They wrestled over the grassy knolls, tall blades of grass tickling their backs. Soon, movement ceased, and it became obvious that Ares had ended up on top. He straddled her thighs, pinning her hands above her head. "Gotcha," he gloated, his lips skimming over her collarbone.

To her credit, Xena was still fighting him, though laughing as she struggled. "See? You cheated again."

"Nay, my Princess. I outplayed you. You've tricked me enough times in the past; this was just payback."

She suddenly lay still. "Payback?"

"Hmm," he mumbled into her throat. One hand slowly traced the curves and planes of her hard form on its way down her body. He shifted position so he was able to draw her knee up. He dropped his hand to the curve where hip met thigh-- and suddenly found a tree trunk approaching at high speed. His head connected with a solid crack, and he slumped to the earth, illogical little birds flying around his head. As if the entire world spinning wasn't enough, there just had to be a bunch of birds spiraling above his head in the opposite direction.

Disoriented, Ares staggered to his feet. Making a massive effort, he pivoted, and immediately was impaled by pools of furious blue.

Xena slammed him backward into the tree again, "Payback? Is that all this has been?"

With a snarl, the god reversed their positions, not noticing the dull thud resulting from Xena and the wood coming into full contact. A few leaves and small twigs pattered to the ground about them. "What's the matter with you? You got mad at me when I tried to give you flowers, too."

"Yes I did. You gave silly flowers. You told me you loved me. You kept pressuring me to sleep with you. Fuck, you asked me to marry you before. And now you come tell me it was all for payback?"

Ares blinked, "So it's not so much what I did, but what I stopped doing."

She pulled away, her expression sullen, "Don't know what you're talking about." Without another word, she disappeared into the brush.

 

* * *

Xena paused before entering the camp, taking the time to swallow her resentment. Damn him. No one played her like that! The son of a bitch! Slowly, a wicked grin stole across her features. She'd get him if it were the last thing she'd do. She raised her eyes, a malicious gleam in the cobalt blue.

 

"You hear me, Ares?" she whispered. "From this moment, you're a hunted man."

 

* * *

He was avoiding her. There was no other explanation. Xena hadn't felt his presence in five days. What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Well, if you can't find your quarry, the Warrior Princess reasoned, you arrange for your quarry to find you. After all, a good hunter never chases; she waits.

Xena let her eyes adjust to the gloom of the long tunnel before setting off towards the sounds of distant hammering and other miscellaneous evidences of a smithy hard at work. Damned if she was going to let him get away with it.

Stepping through an opening, she nearly swayed as a blast of sweltering heat assaulted her senses.

The smithy was easy to spot. He was not particularily tall, definitely shorter than Xena, but what he lacked in height he made up for in width. Not that he was fat though, just thick. If all of him was as big as suggested, Aphrodite surely had a great time of it in the sack. His huge shoulders rippled with muscles as he submerged a white hot metal bar into a barrel of rapidly evaporating water. Xena didn't try to yell above the roaring hiss of stem.

When he finally laid the blade-like bar onto a raised cooling rack, the warrior cleared her throat.

"Excuse me."

Hephaestus replied without looking back, "You're excused."

Xena didn't miss a beat. "That is the lamest joke ever shitted out. Look, I realize you're busy, but I really need to ask a favour."

He sighed, still not glancing back, "You're Hercules' girlfriend, right? What can I do for you?" His tone strongly implied that she only had his attention because of her connection with Hercules.

"Girlfriend?" She sounded surprised, "That was a while ago."

"Nevertheless, you are his friend. I-- " He had finally swung around, and was staring at the molten-eyed beauty in slack-jawed amazement.

"What?" she shifted uncomfortably. You never knew what these slavering sociopaths of gods were thinking.

"Don't move," Hephaestus ordered softly, snatching up a parchement and a piece of charcoal. In short order, an incredibly lifelike sketch of the warrior appeared on the sheet.

"What are you doing?"

Setting aside the parchement, he retorted, "I'm an artist. I appreciate beauty when I see it."

"Oh."

"Mind if I make a figurine of you?"

"Go right ahead."

"Thanks," the god grinned enthusiatically, "I'll call it, 'Regal Wilderness'."

_He's insane._

"Yes, well, anyway," she strode into the forge, her step taking on a quality of pacing. "It's Ares' birth date in a quarter moon, right?"

"What? Oh, yes. Right. I'd forgotten. Why?"

"Can you ask, no, make him come to a town called Amphipolis then?"

"He'll ask why."

"Say it's for a birth date party. And Amphipolis because it's right by your Thracian forge. I'll organize the whole thing, but I need you to deliver all the invitations."

"Are you the Warrior Princess my brother keeps obsessing over?"

"Unfortunately."

"'Tis a pleasure, especially since he's talked my ear off all about you. I can see his reports of your beauty are not in fact exaggerations," The smith god's hands were burning as hot as the forge in which he worked. "Alright. I'll help if you'll give me a front row seat with a good view of his face when he sees you there."

"Done. Why a seat?"

"He's been incredibly angry at you recently. And from my observations, terrified that you'll never speak to him again."

The woman raised a brow, "This should be interesting."

"Hah. Good. Now, where in Amphipolis?"

 

* * *

Ares gritted his teeth and bore the strain of having a couple dozen gods he knew and didn't like and a bunch of mortals he didn't know and probably wouldn't like jump out of their ill-chosen hiding places and yell 'Surprise' in his face. Dammit, he didn't need Hercules beaming at him like all past transgressions were forgotten.

 

He was dragged into a seat at one end of the tavern, and a heap of carefully wrapped gifts were dumped on his lap. Still clustering around, his father raised his goblet.

"To my son. Happy thirty-first thousand seven hundred eighty-fourth winter."

Goblets were drained all around to cries of 'Hear, hear', and some red wine was thust into his hand. Ares was flabbergasted. Zeus remembered how old he was?

He was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

The guests all took their seats and watched him expectantly while more alcohol was poured. Ah, right. The presents. He could clearly remember getting long underwear he would **never** wear a couple of millennia ago, before he had given up on birth days. Damn surprise party. Whose idea was it anyway?

Ares gave them a sickly grin before tackling the formidable heap. An aphrodisiac oil from Aphrodite, as if **he** would need it; a pretty piece of tame lightning from his father, a pair of pyjama bottoms from his mother, damn her; a razor from Hercules, to whom he levelled a glower; a very nice horse from Poseidon, who seemed to be sitting in a pail; some perfect gems from Hades; a free-stay-in-the-inn coupon from the lady who ran it, whoever she was; some current maps from the sidekick, Iolaus... The list ran on and on, until he finally came to Hephaestus' gift. He smiled a bit. His brother always gave him useful things like weapons and such that he liked.

He pulled the wrapper off. A figurine, it seemed. Odd.

Hephaestus watched as Ares turned the statue right side around. He crowed inside as a lot of colour drained from his brother's face. Bulls-eye!

The god of war stared at the small figurine, shock, hurt, betrayal and then anger crossing over his features. His Warrior Princess' countenance gazed at him innocently. So beautiful, so perfect. Damn Hephaestus!

He hurled the figure at the smith god furiously, to have it caught calmly in the god's hand.

"Well," Hephaestus' dark eyes were practically twinkling, "Need I ask if you like it?"

Before Ares could start screaming at his brother, the doors to the kitchen burst open, and in rolled an enormous cake. Huge amounts of sugar must have gone into the making of it. Suddenly, he noticed the person who had pushed in the cake. What the hell was Gabrielle doing here? She grinned at him, blond hair slightly encrusted with some icing, and announced, "And now the final gift."

Ares was about to make a droll comment on the sheer size of the cake when the top exploded off the confection in a dark blur. It hurtled right into him, knocking him onto his back. When the god's vision cleared, he looked up into the rich blue pools of the Warrior Princess, who happened to be straddling him. The god cast about desperately for an escape from this dreaded confrontation, but then subsided. It was useless; he was caught. Ares knew exactly what had happened. The warrior had hunted, laid her trap, and he was now effectively snared. She had always been the better hunter. Hephaestus was interested to note that the war god's face took on a greenish tinge.

Xena grinned.

She slipped a piece of cake through his parted lips before sealing them with a kiss. "Gotcha," she purred. "Happy birth date, Ares."

And then she sauntered off in her incredibly arousing fashion.

Ares felt the heart he'd ignored for millennia crack. Of course. It was nothing but a game. Their relationship would never be more than just a hunt.

 

* * *

Presently, the socializing and drinking started with a vengeance, and Xena slipped back into the crowd. Lost in thought, she meandered through the bodies. Did she really see that crack in his dark fa�ade then? Or did she just imagine the hurt, beaten hint in his eyes?

 

Xena found herself intercepted by Apollo.

"You are a **very** beautiful girl. How did you ever escape my notice?"

Xena disliked Apollo immensely. She disliked his cocky grin and his boyish good looks. Some people undressed you with their eyes, but Apollo looked as if he were already frolicking between your thighs. She felt tempted to answer, "Probably because I was too covered in your followers' blood for you to see."

Suddenly, she felt Ares' glare burn into her shoulderblades. Swallowing the bile, Xena flashed a beguiling smile, "How indeed?"

 

* * *

He downed the goblet, his mind humming with rage. She was flirting with the bastard! Ares had never liked Apollo, with his golden locks and perfect features. Then there was that episode with the Lanae wench. The ungrateful bitch had taken his hospitality, his bed, and then just upped and ran off with the motherfucking sun god. Damn Apollo to Tartarus and back!

 

Now Golden boy wanted HIS Xena. Oh, the bastard could deny it, but Ares knew that predatory gleam in those pretty blue eyes of his. And she was _flirting_ with him! That galled to no end.

Her head came up, and their eyes met across the room. Xena smirked, noticing the cold fury in his dark gaze. All by smiling at his brother.

Ares swallowed the urge to strike her. Never show your weaknesses before your enemy. Dammit, before he met her, he didn't think he had any weaknesses. Deep breath. He could play it cool as well.

Then, she deliberately turned her back to him, resuming her conversation.

The wargod lost it. Damn propriety! Damn the audience! Damn her!! He easily pushed to her side, leaving bewildered partygoers reeling in his wake. All sounds had ceased by the time he grabbed her wrist and swung her around roughly.

"Fuck you!" he roared, "I don't know what you're doing to me, but I want you to stop it!"

Xena blinked. She hadn't expected him to react in this fashion. He must have gotten drunk of something. "Stop what?"

"I said I don't know! You're driving me crazy!"

"Big improvement there then," she returned evenly.

His fist connected solidly with the palm of her hand as she caught his punch, but his other hand shot out with a backhanded blow that knocked her back a step.

When she turned back to regard him, it was with the cold shuttered glare of the warrior, but Ares didn't notice. He leaned in, "You're the biggest damn bitch I've ever known, you know that?" His voice was freezing and furious, like a mountain of ice. "You can't keep doing it, Xena. You can't keep blaming me for your own faults just because I love you." Finally releasing his grip, he disappeared in a tiny ripple of air.

The echoing silence continued unbroken until Xena suddenly seemed to stumble and collapsed into the couch behind her. While she rubbed the wrist that was already showing signs of bruising, the crowd murmured in consternation.

Gabrielle hurried to her friend's side, nearly reaching Xena before Cyrene did.

"Xena, are you alright?"

Cyrene's jaw tightened at the brightness of tears in her daughter's luminous pools. "I'll kill the bastard myself," she muttered under her breath, her fingers lightly brushing over the girl's reddening cheek.

Xena shook her head reassuringly, "No, Mom, it's fine. He's right," she rubbed the moisture from her eyes gruffly, "I've been a complete bitch."

The Warrior Princess jumped to her feet and was almost immediately out the door, "I have to find him."

 

* * *

Ares scowled as he tossed the stone into the depths of the river. Shit, he hadn't ever hit her in anger before, and now he just had to go humiliate himself on his birth date. They'd fought when he was angry before, but he had always controlled himself enough to give her a fair chance at fighting back. He wished that he could hate her.

 

An insistent pounding at the back of his head grew louder, until he suddenly realized that it wasn't in his head at all. The god pivoted in time to see the horse come into view. By the gods she was magnificent. Her eyes flashed a deeper shade of blue than the sky at her back, pinning him with twin sapphire daggers like a butterfly in a collection. Her long tresses whipped about like a cloud of midnight about her defined, striking features. Her movements were fluidity itself, rolling in time with Argo's long strides... and she was coming way too fast.

Xena jerked Argo to a halt scant metres from the god. Rubbing the palomino's long neck apologetically, she studied him. Gods he was irritating, standing there with his chin raised arrogantly, staring at her like she was some unwelcome pest. Yet at the same time, he was so handsome, his dark eyes blazing calmly and proudly. She could still remember when she was a pest to him. That had been years ago, when she was still a little girl. She had followed him everywhere: her god, her idol, and he would glare at her, annoyed, until he finally relented and showed her the technique for that particular manoeuvre, or the nuances of that new strategy.

There was no need for him to ask how she had found him; they both knew how she could sense his presence.

"Warrior Princess," he greeted her coldly, "I see you'll not allow me a single measure of peace."

"Not before I talked to you, no."

Ares turned his back, "What's there to say? You hunted; you won."

"But you--" she bit off her angry retort, taking a deep breath. "Look, I didn't come here to fight with you."

"And you're making such a great effort at peace."

"Why won't you listen?"

"You have nothing useful to say. If you wanted revenge, you've gotten it. Now leave be. Let me wallow in solitude." Ares could feel her temper rising in conjuntion with his. Sliding from her horse, her step took on that dangerous quality that had lesser men quaking in their suddenly wet breeches. Her voice almost always became a soft, misleading purr when she felt threatened or particularily annoyed. And she was **pissed** now.

"Oh, but the hunt's far from over, god of war."

He was confused. This sounded and felt like their old game, but he couldn't remember ever being the prey before. He backed away cautiously, not sure what she was going to do. Turning to the right, Ares jumped when he saw that she was already waiting there for him, inches from his nose. Startled, he sprang backward, and she let him do so.

It was her move.

Suddenly, she feinted to the left. Ares, knowing her style, knew that she was actually charging the right flank, and accordingly ran left. What he didn't count on, was that Xena knew the same thing. She knew that he would call her bluff, and so she did actually rush left and intercept him. Ares' eyes widened as she bore down on him and knocked him into the river at his back. Swearing as he surfaced, he glared into her triumphant blue gaze. Well, two could play that game.

He whipped his arm out, catching her around the waist and dragging her into the river with him. Ares grinned, savouring the furious shock in her eyes as she went under. Then he grunted, losing his balance and toppling backward in an explosion of spray as she backhanded him with all of her strength.

When Ares resurfaced a fair distance away, he noticed with horror that Xena was having trouble staying afloat in the now turbulent waters. Her heavy armour was dragging her down and preventing her from regaining her equilibrium. Striking out, he reached her side in a few strokes, panic threatening to cloud his mind. Pushing it back desperately, Ares caught hold of her waist, and quickly swam to shore. Drained, he heaved her onto the grassy bank before collapsing beside her. Her coughing seemed to yield gallons of river water.

"I'm gonna kill you," Ares wheezed, still reeling from her rush, "You cheated. You're not supposed to push me into the river."

"No, I outplayed you," she shot back, lying, exhausted, by his side. "And in case you didn't notice, you pulled me into that same river." Xena struggled to sit up.

He had her on her back in an instant, his arms caging her in on both sides, "Where do you think you're going?"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just that, I'm gonna fuck you."

Before she could strike, Ares crushed his lips to hers. Xena sank her teeth into his bottom lip. He swore, grabbed her hair near the roots, and kissed her again. Once again, they wrestled, rolling through the high grasses and dunes, and once again, the god achieved the top position. He was just plain bigger. He scrambled to keep the woman from throwing him off when suddenly, she surrendered. Suspicious, he straddled her, and met her eyes.

Gods, they had never been so dark, so filled with... hunger. His gaze focused on her slightly parted lips. Had they ever been so inviting? So suggestive of passion?

With a starved growl, he tore at her clothes, ripping the wet leather and metal from her luscious form. He would have had to replace them anyway. They were ruined by the water. His frenzied hands elicited a low moan from the woman, and as she tugged off his vest, Xena grumbled stubbornly, "I didn't come here to fight."

"I heard. Don't believe you."

"The nerve," she protested.

"What for then?" He nudged her thighs apart and pushed into her in one smooth thrust. It was all he was capable of at the moment. No useless foreplay, just a great, fast, uncomplicated fuck. Gods knew she was ready enough.

Her back arched high above the ground, "Ahh! I, I came to talk. I wanted to tell you--"

"I know full well what you were probably going to tell me. You were probably going to rub it into my face that you made me misbehave at that party I bet you threw to piss me off."

"Oh gods! ...No."

"Pardon?" Ares paused in his slow grinding motion. "Mmph, don't stop," she clutched at his shoulders, "I meant, no, I didn't come to rub whatever it was you said in your face."

"Then you must have found something else wrong with me." He groaned as her inner muscles clenched around him.

"Actually, umm, no. I came to tell you that you were right. I was being an utter bitch. I was wrong to blame you for my own damn faults."

Ares had become deadly still.

"Are you alright?"

A grateful smile covered his features, and he buried his head between her soft breasts, "Never better."

She gasped as he thrust deep, deeper than anyone had ever attempted. He raised himself on his elbows, "I love you." His words were punctuated with a scorching kiss, "You know that, don't you?"

Xena was the one who sought his lips as they settled into an accelerating rhythm, "I know."

 

* * *

"Ares," she raised her dark head from his shoulder, "I need to know. Suppose I wasn't the Warrior Princess? Could you love me for who I am, and not who I've become?"

 

"Yes," his answer was reassuringly decisive. "I admit I do love the way you move and fight, but I also love the way your eyes turn a softer, prettier shade of blue when you're happy; the way your hair curls just at the ends there; whatever it is that makes you... you." The god regarded her solemnly, "Call me silly if you wish, but though it was your violence that drew me to you, it was your soul or whatever you like to call it that made me love you." He paused, rolling over to reverse their positions before lowering his lips to the warm pulse at her throat. It began jack-hammering immediately at his touch. "That and this wonderful fire here," he ammended.

Her hand on his chest was rigid as she pushed him up so that she could look him in the eye. "Look, I'm not doing the whole 'Ares, I'm yours; take me' thing again. I don't think I can keep myself from going crazy if I can't have you in my bed, but if you want my love, you have to be patient while I figure things out."

Ares pulled her hand to his lips, "I know. I'm willing to wait. Not too long though, but I'm willing. But in the meantime," he took a dark nipple into his mouth and suckled deeply, enjoying her sharp hiss of breath, "this'll do."

  
And that, my friends, is how the Warrior Princess brought down her quarry. Not your usual type of hunting, yes, but... it'll do.


End file.
